Beneath the Silence
by TheMack
Summary: Way back in Uncanny X-Men #110 (my comic book collection rocks) Jean Grey gave Wolverine the nickname 'Wolvie'. That's right, it wasn't Jubilee or Kitty Pryde. It was Jean. This story takes place right after the events of #110... R/R if you care.


Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. But you knew that already, so why are you even   
reading this, dumbass?  
  
Author's Note: Way back in Uncanny X-Men #110 Jean Grey gave Wolverine the   
nickname 'Wolvie'. That's right people it was Jean, not Jubilee or Kitty Pryde. This   
story is a follow up to that event, taking place between #110 and #111 in the comic book   
continuum. A sort of "behind the scene" story, if you will. You don't need to, but it may   
help to read my stories "Renegade" and "Eye to Eye" to get a feel for where I'm coming   
from when it comes to these characters.  
  
  
Beneath The Silence  
By  
TheMack  
  
  
"Just what the hell did you think you were doing?" shouted Scott Summers. Scott paced   
the floor of the mansion's living room angrily. A defiant, silent Wolverine stared back at   
him, following all of Scott's movements with his cold eyes. Professor Xavier sat silently   
to the side of the two combatants, observing them in silent dismay. Jean, Storm,   
Banshee, Kurt and Peter watched from the entrance to the hallway.  
  
"I think that Wolverine may have gone too far this time, tovarisch. He's really going to   
get it," whispered Colossus to Kurt. Kurt shook his head.  
  
"Nein, mein freund. This one will go to Wolverine," whispered Kurt in reply.  
  
Scott stopped pacing and stood in front of Wolverine, glaring with rage in his eyes as he   
towered over the shorter X-Man. His words came out forced and laced with venom.  
  
"We are trying to create a world in which mutants and non-mutants can exist together   
peacefully. You are not helping us by trying to kill a man in broad daylight in an alley in   
New York City. If Storm hadn't stopped you, you would have helped justify what every   
anti-mutant group in America says about us. I've had it with you little man. If you can't   
follow the rules, then leave. And don't come back. Or so help me, I'll blast you into the   
next millennium. The X-Men do not kill. Get it through your head. We don't kill. It's   
not our policy."  
  
Wolverine smirked. He pulled out a cigar bit the end off and spat it at Scott's feet.   
  
"Well, bub, when an adult male is chasing a female with the intent to commit rape, I gut   
the bastard. That's my policy." Wolverine turned to leave.   
  
"Intent? How did you know what he was going to do, Wolverine? Did you suddenly   
develop telepathic powers that allowed you to read his mind? Or were you just   
overreacting like the little psychopath that you are?"   
  
Wolverine turned and faced Scott.  
  
"When a naked guy is chasing a girl through an alley with a butcher knife and a hard on, I   
figure he ain't out collectin' for the Red Cross, bub."  
  
"I think he has a point, Scott," murmured Professor Xavier from his wheelchair.  
  
Scott tried to respond, but couldn't come up with anything to say. He stood there with   
his mouth open and a flabbergasted look on his face. Wolverine lit his cigar and walked   
out of the room, the rest of the X-Men scattering out of his way.  
A few hours later, Jean Grey walked out of the mansion. It was a beautiful spring day   
and she wanted to enjoy it. Scott was still seething from his argument with Wolverine, so   
spending the day with him was out of the question. She headed out for a walk. She made   
her way out to the waterfront by the boathouse. As she walked she breathed deeply and   
let the serenity wash over her. Shortly, a prone figure beneath a large oak tree became   
visible. It was Wolverine. He was dressed like she, it shorts and a tee shirt. He was fast   
asleep in the shade of the oak tree. Jean laughed to herself. It was the first time she had   
ever seen Wolverine actually look peaceful. She sat down next to Wolverine. She   
picked a few blades of glass and began to tickle Wolverine's nose.  
  
"You like livin' dangerously, don't ya, Red?" Wolverine opened his eyes, looked up and   
frowned at the stunning redhead. Jean shook her head.  
  
"I guess there's no sneaking up on you, huh, Wolvie?"  
  
Wolverine sat up and glared at Jean.  
  
"I meant to ask you the other day, but what's with the goddamn nickname?"  
  
Jean smiled and playfully swatted Wolverine's nose.  
  
"It's easier to say than 'Wolverine' and I like it. It's short and cute. Like you."  
  
A look of anger passed over Wolverine's face. He shook his head, glared at Jean again,   
flopped back on the ground, rolled onto his side facing away from Jean, and muttered   
something unflattering about women. Jean tossed the blades of grass into Wolverine's   
hair.   
  
"I wonder how your friends can even put up with you. What with your great personality   
and all."  
  
"I ain't got no friends, Red," replied Wolverine, his back still towards Jean.  
  
"What about the X-Men?"  
  
"What about 'em?"  
  
"We're your friends, aren't we?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Jean didn't respond. It was true, though. As close as she and Scott had become to Kurt,   
Sean, Ororo, and Peter, Wolverine remained the outsider. She had only one conversation   
with him prior to this one, that night in the woods after the new team had rescued the old   
one from the living island. He only interacted with the others when they were on a   
mission, and then only grudgingly. Otherwise, he always kept to himself and shunned   
the company of others. The other day, when the X-Men had gotten together to play   
baseball, Wolverine had joined them. Jean had considered it a victory and a sign that   
maybe he was finally warming up to the others. Instead he and Peter nearly got into a   
fight that could've quickly gotten ugly. At the end of the day, he had disappeared again.   
Wolverine truly was a man surrounded by many and yet still all alone in the world. And   
for the life of her, Jean could not figure out why. She studied the figure lying next to her,   
with his back to her. Jean shook her head. Why did she even care? Why does she even   
try to reach out and make a connection with this arrogant, little upstart?  
  
"You can't be a loner all you life, Wolvie."  
  
"I like bein' a loner. No grief, no hassles, no worries," responded Wolverine who finally   
rolled over to face Jean.  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"Why do you care?"  
  
"Just curious, I guess."  
  
"Look Red, where I come from, friends either end up stabbin' you in the back, or gettin'   
hurt because of you. I got enough shit on my plate to deal with without havin' more piled   
on it because of 'friends'. So why don't ya do you and me a favor and leave me be?"  
  
"So I guess there is something that the unstoppable Wolverine is afraid of after all."  
  
Wolverine sat up quickly.  
  
"The hell are you talkin' about, girl?"  
  
Jean smiled.  
  
"You're afraid of being hurt. You're afraid of being hurt by a friend's betrayal and by a   
friend being hurt because of you. So you protect yourself by being a loner. See, you're   
not so tough, after all."  
  
"You think it's that simple, huh, Red?"  
  
"Yes I do."  
  
Wolverine reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigar. He lit it, took a few   
drags and exhaled slowly. He looked Jean straight in the eye.  
  
"Well Red, let me tell ya somethin'. It ain't that simple. Bein' hurt's part of life. Same   
as pain. The day you stop feelin' pain is the day you die. I ain't afraid of bein' hurt, if   
that's what you think. It's hard to be, when everythin' you ever loved and held dear died   
in your arms. 'Cause you know ain't nothin' ever gonna hurt you as bad as that. But   
sometimes, trouble just follows a man. And I got more kinds of trouble than you can   
count followin' me. So it ain't me I'm protectin', Red."  
  
"So by not being our friend, your protecting us from these 'troubles' that are following   
you?"  
  
"Somethin' like that."  
  
Jean sat up straight and crossed her arms.  
  
"Well then I guess you have a problem, Wolvie."  
  
Wolverine arched an eyebrow.  
  
"What do ya mean?"  
  
"I'm your friend now, Wolvie. And I'll always be your friend. No matter what you say.   
So you better stick around and keep an eye on me, make sure I don't get hurt."  
  
Jean smiled sweetly. Wolverine scowled.  
  
"You don't know what you're sayin', girl."  
  
"Sure I do. I'm willing to bet it's worth whatever the risk is to have you as a friend."  
  
"And how do you know I'm worth it?"  
  
"I know that you are good man, despite your attitude and general bad disposition."  
  
"Ya think?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Well you're in the minority on that one, Red." Wolverine rolled back on his side and   
tried to return to his nap. Unfortunately for him, Jean wasn't about to let him do that.  
  
"You really like it out here all on your own, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's nice and quiet. Peaceful. Reminds me of a time in my life when it was peaceful and   
happy. A time that's long gone and probably ain't ever gonna come back."  
  
"I thought you were a man of action, Mr. Trouble-Follows-Me-Wherever-I-go."  
  
Wolverine rolled over and faced Jean.  
  
"Ya know Red, you and the Professor, with all your telepathic abilities, ain't ever gonna   
be able to figure out what makes me tick."  
  
Jean leaned forward in interest.  
  
"So why don't you tell me, Wolvie?"  
  
Wolverine grinned.  
  
"That'd be too easy, Red."  
  
"So I guess I have to figure out what's beneath the silence, huh?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
Jean laughed out loud. Suddenly she leaned forward and kissed Wolverine on the   
forehead.   
  
"Don't worry, Wolvie. I'll figure it out."  
  
Jean got up and left Wolverine beneath tree as she headed back to the mansion. For his   
part, Wolverine sat beneath the tree, his hand resting on his forehead, in total shock. He   
turned and watched Jean make her way back to the mansion. Maybe 'Wolvie' wasn't   
such a bad name after all...  
  
  
I don't know, kinda sucked if you ask me... but if you want me to continue with this or   
the 'behind the scene' thing let me know. sobs@erols.com Peace Out--TheMack.  



End file.
